The dumb lass, she sang a song at least of the journey from her teary eyes before the vagabond stepped out.
Hitherto he couldn't get a lift as all are going somewhere else and not along the heaven road.
Accidentally a historian stopped and picked him up for the way back towards Babylon where she still sings alone.
The following character haunts me these days;
*Francis Phelan in William Kennedy's novel 'Ironweed', Ex-ballplayer, part-time gravedigger, full-time drunk, has hit bottom.
How sad that the lass has to sing alone. But perhaps, the poet is too hard on himself. As long as there is life, there is hope. Excellent write, Nimal. Always your friend, , Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A modern day Aesop's fable methinks, Nimal. Your stories fascinate and instruct too. Great work. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥